Vent Thy Fury East II: Dawn of the Firewalker
by Dalton the Author
Summary: The highly anticipated sequel to the first Vent Thy Fury East novel is here with Dawn of the Firewalker. The story picks up two years where the last one left off and tells the tale of Berek, the now solitary Hunter, and his struggle to cope with the evil lurking within him: The Crimson Fatalis. Original story here: /s/6091261/1/Vent-Thy-Fury-East
1. Prelude

**Vent Thy Fury East II**

**Dawn of the Firewalker**

**by Dalton**

**Prelude**

Become one with the darkness, demonic protector. Shield yourself from that which you love most in the world, selfless Hunter. Writhe with evil and distance yourself from purity, chaotic savant. For now, you are nothing more than a slave to the evil of an ancient world… Rebirthed from the pits of Hell and dressed in scales of crimson… You are the Firewalker.

"_Thy spirit hast transmogrified into the deepest of red… Thou hast become mine own flesh and smoldering blood. Doth thou feel powerful, boy? Heh, heh, heh… Take heed, noble Hunter… Thou shalt not contain such flames for eternity… Eventually… Gradually… Thou shalt break…"_

The great demon, Moribalken, taunted the once great Monster Hunter, the one who sacrificed so much in exchange for misery and regret. It gnawed at his psyche and tore at his mind, making each and every day more difficult than the one that came before it. Yet in the years following the calamity of the Black Fatalis and its sinister pactmaker, Shinu, the noble soul would not break. Why should he? To break would be to throw away everything that the young man had sacrificed so much for. Doing so would unleash an inextinguishable flame upon the land of Minegarde, putting an end to any sense of righteousness he may have had up until that point.

No, he cannot break. Not this one. Both his strength in spirit and tolerance were unparalleled throughout the plains, hills, jungles, and mountains. Of course, that is why the beast chose him over so many that had offered their souls in times past. And this is why he would not bend to the will of the mighty Crimson Fatalis so easily.

Although after two whole agonizing years linked to the beast… Two years since the rise and fall of the Legendary Black Dragon and its counterpart, Shinu… The insidious natures of the wretched beast had begun to take their toll on the boy. It was becoming increasingly difficult to contain the creature's abominable rage. Ultimately, the tenacity of the dragon's will to instill chaos and wreak havoc should have crippled the Hunter's fortitude by now, just as Miraboreas, the Black Fatalis, had done to Shinu.

Ever vigilant, he would not break. Not yet, anyway. And as he walked those very same plains of Minegarde, mindlessly searching for and flushing out evil wherever it resided, lurking in the dead of night–the Hunter sensed something. Perhaps a foretelling brought upon and augmented by the ancient dragon's many gifts. He sensed a feeling he had not felt since two years prior. This feeling was hard to conceptualize at first, but he knew it. He recognized the sensation for what it was almost immediately. Conflict. Conflict between what factions, at what point in time, where, and other, minute details may have eluded him–but there was no denying the ominous foresight. Conflict awaited him, and possibly the entire population of Minegarde.

But where was the fear? Absent? Yes! Yes, entirely! For he was the most powerful, most terrifying, most formidable foe to set foot amongst these plains, hills, jungles, and mountains, was he not? Ah well… There is the supposed inquiry then. Let's just say: It would be ill-advised to be so headstrong, dear Hunter. This is true. There is another, much like you, in more ways than one, that has burrowed its way up from the deepest, darkest depths of the underworld you may soon face. And there are more evils that you have yet to conquer on your journey there as well. Evils far worse than the sadistic Shinu and his false idol; the adversaries you defeated two years ago.

Hide yourself from the light, noble Hunter. Distance yourself further from the ones you hold so dear… The ones that you gave up everything for. For if you truly love them… No… If you truly love, _her_… Then you would stay as far away from her as possible and live your life as the cursed man you swore to be. Just as you have continued to do for the past two painful years.

After all, that is the only emotion he was still capable of comprehending at this most sorrowful time, was it not? It is a deep and utterly terrifying pain… One that gnaws worse than Moribalken itself. It is only pain that allowed him to continue clinging to the world that was slowly fading into ruin. It's a powerful, soul devouring pain, that constantly reminded him of what he would never be able to accomplish… What he would never be able to express… What he would never be able to rid himself of… And how he would _never_ be able to love her again…

So you would keep distance… Abandon the light and those who happily dwelled within… without your company… And with this… could you possibly stay content, dearest Firewalker? We will see.


	2. Chapter One: Absence

**Author's Note: Welcome back, everyone. It's been almost three years since Vent Thy Fury East. As you might be able to tell, I've grown much as a writer. Someday I'll go back and sharpen up the original VTFE to reflect this. Things are off to a gloomy start, but they'll get better. Hang in there, Magnus.**

**Be sure to leave a review!**

**Chapter One: Absence**

"H–Hey, Evelyn… Ah… So, I was just wondering…" A young Guild student named Daren stammered, greeting Evelyn at her locker. Her heart skipped a brief beat, readying her for what came next… It wouldn't be the first time that he'd tried this.

"Well, you know, if you're not busy or anything after class tomorrow, I was thinking… The two of us could go to the festival in the town centre, maybe? We have class off for the next week due to holidays, and I know that you don't get out much–" Choking on his own words, his stammer worsened. "N–Not that that's a bad thing! Or anything! I just–Ugh…" He sighed, shutting himself up before letting loose any further insults.

Taking a step back and closing her locker door, Evelyn blushed as her eyes began to dart, searching the hallway floor for appropriate responses. At a loss for words and seemingly oblivious to her own beauty and mystique, she could only clutch her textbooks closely with an awkward smile to match a nervous breath.

"I'm sorry, Daren, I have… I have to help Delilah restock the shop tomorrow!" She shouted, as if remembering only just now. "Maybe some other time!"

"Well, what about the next day then!?"

The boy's words fell upon deaf ears, as Evelyn had already taken flight down the fanciful corridor of Augrim, the Guild operated school for aspiring youths looking for a career as Guild operatives.

"That girl… She's always like that. I guess I need to learn when to take a hint," Daren mumbled to himself before making his own escape from Augrim's prestigious halls.

The spring season had yet again begun to bless the thirsty land and cold denizens of Minegarde. Although, in the desert metropolis of Bordertown, both temperate seasons and chilling demeanors hardly seemed subject to change. All year round the days were hot and nights cold. Albeit the nights were far colder during the winter and the days relentless come summer. Not that the residents there were prone to complaints. It was a simple, daily truth that all Bordertownsmen and women had grown accustomed too. All but the lovely and mysterious Evelyn. She was a mountain girl after all. A heritage she would not have known two years prior if it weren't told to her upfront…

Walking amongst and tan, leathery faces of both her neighbors and frequent outsiders, it was no surprise to Evelyn that she was from someplace else. Her skin grew pink and sensitive after only a few sun soaked moments. She was not fond of sweat, dust, or insects. And when confronted by those around her with any social matter, be it a heritage based inquiry or otherwise, she was quick to recede into a shy and reclusive shell.

It is this most curious outward appearance that might receive a much different response in regards to accusations of easily burnt skin, a dislike of excessive perspiration, and a general lack of appreciation for social interaction from the Evelyn of two years. That is because two years ago, the young student of the great Guild operated private school, Augrim, known as Evelyn Marmota, was in fact a _very_ different person.

That Evelyn was considered _one_ with the wilderness. That Evelyn would speak to anyone, at any time, about any topic without any mental hindrance. That Evelyn would shatter a line of four, half empty mugs of lager from just over a hundred yards' distance with her bowgun using only a single a piercing round, while the more current, curious mistress would have trouble hitting a Lao Shan Lung at point blank range. It is these contrasts that paint the backdrop for the troubled girl left a modest fortune with only a handful of supposed "friends" to rely upon after awaking outstretched on a hospital bed with the taste of poison still fresh in her lungs.

It is safe to say that the Evelyn attending Augrim… Was a vastly different person altogether. However, the truth was that she was the same woman, through and through, only with a fluctuating outlook on life at the present. Something to be expected when facing the great loss that had transformed her into her "current" self… And while she couldn't say that she detested the place the feeling of warmth that awaited her upon her arrival to the ravaged and crumbled Bordertown, a place that she had once given her life to protect, was anything but "home."

And as she returned hastily to her "home" the day Daren once again pleaded with her to attend a social outing, she dwelled on the past lost to her, as she so regularly did, wondering exactly how and where it all went awry. She wondered just how she came to lose her memory, yet retain almost all of the emotion it instilled within her. Perhaps the experience, whatever it may have been, was so traumatizing to her that her mind subconsciously withheld the memories in an attempt to shield her from the slow trickle of pain that still managed to seep through the cracks. A pain that she knew, yet could never fully understand.

Acting as her guardian, the now retired Huntress, Delilah, had informed Evelyn of what it was that brought about her condition save a few explicit details. She knew of the evil that "Shinu" inflicted upon the world and how he had nearly killed her with the swipe of his deadly scythe. The skewed patch of scar tissue located just under her ribs, an eyesore to her, was proof enough of his near fatal stroke. Both Magnus, the oafish but proficient Monster Hunter, and Delilah, the tender Shopkeep, had informed her of her misfortune and how her residence with them came to be. And that is how she knew it.

Still, a feeling of emptiness managed to consume the girl daily. Despite the warm, gentle reception she was given upon reentering Bordertown, there seemed to be something missing. Something more than just memory. The ailment was unshakable and downright nauseating at times. How she could live out the remainder of her life like this seemed impossible at first, but after months of restoration, both with her and the ruined Bordertown, the sensation subsided into a faint reminder of just what _might_ have been before her mind was so severely damaged.

It was a reminder to her of nothingness. A feeling she longed for, but knew not where to look. And for that, she hated the man. Even at Augrim they preach how a dead man has no place to be hated, as he is at peace and can no longer cause any harm to those among the living. But that wasn't enough to stop the instinct that drove her to loathe him just as much as she did.

The Monster Hunter, the silent assassin, the demonic pactmaker–Shinu. He was the culprit of this emptiness that gripped her soul.

And while she may not have looked it upon first glance, with her generally bouncy disposition and shy, adorable appeal, she was still very much endowed with a strong sense of misery and wonder. A wonder at how she might be able to recover those lost memories and that lingering sensation. Or at least find someone who knew more about it than her foster housemates, Magnus and Delilah.

She fantasized often that she might partake in a lengthy journey across the face of Minegarde in search of clues leading to someone who might know more about the past that eluded her, and possibly filling the empty void within her heart. But the notion was quick to shy away after factoring in the difficulty of such a task and the dangers that would surely await her. It took three, burly men to escort her from her mountain village of Makobe back to Bordertown after awaking in a hospital bed. And even then she was terrified the entire journey.

What's more, she did not wish to leave. There was nothing for her there, save a few burnt houses and crippled illusions of memory. The very sight of the village gave off a nostalgic, but depressing aura. As if there was much more to the small and cozy Makobe than her simply being born there…

It was the journey back to Bordertown complete with the occasional run in with Jaggi and Ioprey that sparked Evelyn to dedicate her studies to helping those who would take up the lance, sword, shield, and hammer to brave the wilds in her stead. After settling in with her housemates and feeling eager to shake the stench of helplessness, Evelyn soon found her very life hinged on aiding those who aimed to protect such places as Bordertown, Allsburg, the Frontier, and the rest of the free lands of Minegarde.

So she enrolled at Augrim after consulting the matter with the friends forced to explain they were friends. Even with Magnus' adamant displeasure with the idea, Evelyn wished to become a Guild official, be it a lowly barmaid or regal Headmaster at the newly rebuilt Guild Tower that watched over Bordertown once again after being torn to shreds by the mighty Fatalis.

This change in attitude presented by Evelyn was at first disheartening to her old companions. After all, they knew the _old_ Evelyn. They knew of her strengths, weaknesses, and inextinguishable charisma. Just as they knew about her tragic past. And while the two of them did their best to explain to her exactly what had happened and how the result came to this; living here in a newly restructured and repopulated Bordertown… They could not bring themselves to disclose the most vital part of the story involving Evelyn and her past life as a glamorous, model Hunter.

It was a piece to the puzzle that the two had sworn away at the expense of trust and for the sake of sanctity. They thought it not their place to set such a heavy burden upon the bewildered girl's shoulders… They thought it not their right to tell her of the one thing most important to her in the world… _Berek_.

The name came up very scarcely among the household in which the three lived, and if it did, it most likely wasn't intended for her ears at all. The story that Evelyn knew regarding Shinu and the _Second Fall of Minegarde_ (as it was now published in the Guild annals) was that he had initiated an all out assault on Bordertown and its neighboring allies using the influence of the Black Fatalis. And that much was true.

The rest of the carefully woven tale? Magnus, Delilah, and the rest of the town's Monster Hunters managed to fight off the invasion of dragon and wyvern alike, causing Shinu to flee, never to return. But before doing this, due to some unexplained grudge against the Huntress, Shinu stabbed Evelyn through the abdomen before leaving her and the rest of the enflamed city to burn to ash. Since no medical facilities were available at the time, and due to the nature of her injury, Evelyn was rushed to the clinic in Makobe where her wounds were treated and memory corroded beyond repair.

_That_ was the story as Evelyn knew it. When in reality, it was known by both Magnus and Delilah that Shinu had no grudge against the girl, rather than the one she loved most. He kidnapped the girl as a means to provoke quite possibly the greatest living warrior of the Age… Berek. The proud, fearless, noble, valiant… and "weak" Hunter, Berek. Weak with "love," as Shinu described it. He recognized Berek's love as a weakness that he had planned to exploit, just to show to his false idol, Fatalis, that he, Shinu, was the superior.

And while the two, now parental figures in Evelyn's life knew the truth of this story or at least the bits including her abduction… It was something that they soon found impossible to reveal comfortably.

After taking Evelyn away to the castle schrade, far across the desert and near the razed state of Allsburg, both Magnus and Delilah knew little as to what actually took place there. Few nearby witnesses described the event something surreal, complete with violent black and crimson cyclones entwining and sending bolts of red lightning down to glaze the dunes in glass before seeing the Black Fatalis disappearing into the darkened horizon.

It was only hours after this spectacle that a team was sent to investigate the ruins, discovering little more than the scattered remains of the tyrant, Shinu, and his Scythe of Menace, bringing an end to chaos he had unleashed upon the land and calling for worldwide celebration.

It would take Magnus to be the first to suggest that the villain was done in by one of the only men he had ever truly considered "friend." Berek was the one that defeated Shinu and bested the Legendary Black Dragon in combat. He then somehow managed to escort Evelyn safely back to Makobe before the poison took over her entire body. He had somehow managed to carry her… hundreds of miles… back to their homeland, where she was treated and saved due to his undying sense of love and loyalty. And Magnus knew this to be true and even confirmed Berek's arrival there with Evelyn after sending an inquisition via messenger hawk to the doctor days after hatching the theory.

But if this was the case, then why? Why after going through all of that would Berek possibly vanish afterward, leaving the girl he cared so much for with a full armory of his belongings and all of the revenue he had accumulated over his years of Hunting? And not just a portion of it, mind you. _All_ of it. 'What point was he possibly trying to make?' Magnus thought.

Just two months after recovering from her wounds and sickness, Evelyn traveled to Bordertown, just as she had been instructed by the doctor that tended to her. He relayed a single message for the mysterious man who was at her bedside when she awoke for the first time, reborn as _Evelyn_.

"Go to Bordertown. There are allies waiting for you there."

The message was simple. It was truthful. And curiously, it was painful. But it lacked the insight that Evelyn desired and felt she so rightfully deserved. Regardless, the mere sight of Evelyn, pale, thin, and breathing brought those allies both to tears as they fell to their knees to greet her, almost certain that she had perished. Evelyn remembered that particular moment clearly and relived it often, trying to make sense of the one and only time she had ever been asked: "Where's Berek!?" A name and a question that would soon become lost to her among many others as she reacquainted herself with society.

Evelyn was safe and out of harm's reach. Shinu was slain in an appropriate slaughter, betrayed by his dragon God, and no longer a threat to the free lands. And Berek… had vanished from the face of the Earth without so much as a goodbye.

You would be a fool to deny the love the two had held for each other… Berek and Evelyn… It was unlike anything Magnus or Delilah had ever witnessed, even when compared to the love that _they_ shared. Something indescribable. A spectacle in its own right, the synergy between the two. It was unnatural, but beautiful at the same time. The lengths that the two would go to for each other was incomprehensive, back then, when the four were constant comrades. And to tell this to Evelyn after she had so much to take in upon her arrival… Even after two, long years… They feared that it would just be too much for her to bear. Or in actuality: Too much for _them_ to bear instead. And thus, they buried the truth.

Berek was nothing more to Evelyn than an old friend to her peers that she had scarce contact with. Evelyn had met him once or twice in the city's Guild tavern, but other than that, their relationship was nonexistent. This is what she was told. And this is what she believed. There was no reason to distrust these two kindhearted souls, especially after they had so readily taken her into their care and under their wings without so much as a thought as to how they might provide for the three of them. This was the past as she knew it…

This fabrication tore at Magnus worse than any other. Not only because it made him a liar, but because of how it portrayed the key, missing player. Shortly after Evelyn's arrival, Magnus took leave on an important trek across the desert. He searched the castle schrade himself for any clues as to the whereabouts of his companion. He traveled to Allsburg and even to the slums of the Outpost. Still, nothing lead him any closer to salvation in finding his lost friend.

The only lead available to him was the old mystic sage. The Veggie Elder. During the siege and before leaving Bordertown for the final time and taking to the skies in an airship, Berek spoke with the shriveled old man. The two of them conversed a short while before Berek looked back to both Magnus and Delilah. The look in his eye was that of a phantom, as if the man had never existed at all, perhaps preparing him for his life ahead. It was a determined, demonic gaze, filled with fury and regret. Alas, Magnus could see through it, even when hazy and injured after slaying the mighty Espinas. Berek could not hide it from him… The cold, impenetrable glare was draped in sadness… And this sad gaze was to be his last goodbye.

'A goodbye before even leaving?' Magnus had thought, time and time again. The boy knew that he would never see them again. To say goodbye would have placed too much of a burden on his soul to sit alongside the misery of his lover's abduction and possible murder… and his choice to become one with an ancient evil. With this known, Magnus thought the Elder to be the most likely source of pertinent information concerning Berek's whereabouts and his reasoning for abandoning them. And with that in mind, Magnus pushed himself and scoured the land until he met with the sea.

In the end, the search was fruitless. Every last ounce of energy on Magnus' part was met with failure. Berek was lost and the Veggie Elder had disappeared, leaving not a single bread crumb to follow amongst the endless sands. It was a very low point for the man that had helped to protect the world that was in celebration without him. A world that would never know the truth that he did, with no proof to substantiate his claim.

After 3 long months of travel, the Hunter gave the search a rest. He settled back down with Delilah, who had already enrolled Evelyn at Augrim and fit her into their cozy abode. Under the weight of his demoralizing search with little to show for it, Magnus attempted to reveal the truth of Berek and the relationship between Evelyn and he before he was silenced, held to the ground by a feverishly whimpering Delilah who could not bear to put any more stress on the girl that found it difficult to carry on simple conversations throughout the day due to an illness brought on by nothing more than sheer jealousy.

The first year was beyond difficult. Sleepless nights filled with what could only be thought of as sin and deceit coupled with knowing that a best friend was alone, loveless, and quite possibly deceased. On top of that, the two were forced to make a living in a town where the economy had literally been blown sky high after the decimation of the Guild tower, and would-be Monster Hunters were sprouting up at rates like never before, ready to make a name for themselves after the _"Second Fall of Minegarde."_ To Magnus, it was like a bad joke.

The reasoning behind the Fatalis' unconditional surrender was unknown to the public, although many theories and propaganda were spread soon after the beast's disappearance. Some say that Shinu and Fatalis couldn't see eye to eye, so the dragon tore him to shreds before returning to the land of the ancients, far to the west. Others say that the Fatalis simply grew tired of being a mere lap dog, and ceased to derive pleasure from the chronic disorder and destruction. And then there are those that would be so bold as to attribute Shinu's demise to Guild assassins, beings that didn't even exist, and likely wouldn't turn a man into a finely blended heap of flesh and tattered armor for all to see lying at the center of an abandoned castle fortress…

Magnus held the farfetched thought of Berek single handedly fighting off the devils more closely than "Guild assassins." Something that he would not often share with the general public, unless he was drunk enough of course. And if that time came (and it did come–_often_), then _all_ would know of Berek's great triumph! And all would laugh at the man. He was a Monster Hunter of the past generation, forced to sit idly by as shallow upstarts calling themselves "Hunters" whistled and hollered at women while enjoying free lager and occasionally slaughtering creatures that had little reason to be killed, then sloppily stapling to their bones and skins to their chests.

Perhaps calling it a "low point" would be generous. Yet still, time moved onward as it habitually did. Magnus worked doubly hard and Delilah manned a shop to pay for expenses and Augrim lessons, never allowing Evelyn to delve into the cache of funds inherited by her. She found it strange that Delilah would do this, but never questioned the woman's word. Magnus on the other hand…

"The bastard left us without warning," he once slurred angrily and without caution to Evelyn's ears, inebriated and irritated. "The least he could do is help pay rent!"

And after a swift fist to the noggin by Delilah thereafter, the vault remained closed. The locker of weapons and armors gathered dust. The sheen of once rare items withered with time… And the memories within sunk beneath the shadows, becoming even more distant.

And yet there was one precious something that would never wither. A warm, glowing gemstone the size of a bird's egg. A tiny fragment of a much larger picture. A remnant of times past: The coveted Rathian Ruby.

"_This is yours… Keep it close to you at all times."_

This is what was said to Evelyn before she was handed the dragon treasure by a mysterious, half starved, bruised, and tired young man hovering over her bedside. He seemed emotionless, like a blank slate. Much like her. And that was the ruse he would implant within his psyche to build upon in the following years… And that was the mystery that was left with the girl, strung around her neck as a glistening, emerald pendant that she knew not the origin of or why it had been gifted to her in the first place.

Berek defeated Shinu in combat and crippled his will. He distorted the coming of Minegarde's inherent obliteration. And yes, he did abandon the lot his friends for reasons unbeknownst to them. And whether or not this was in fact the right choice on his part is an irrelevance. All that mattered to him… Wherever he may have been, watching over the world while fighting the evil burning inside his veins… Is that _she_ was safe.

For if these evils were to return again, Shinu or otherwise, Berek would most certainly rise from the depths and be the first to come to the aid of those in need, would he not? As the dragon pesters and darkness festers within his heart… He would be the first to raise his blade against the evils who would dare to vent thy fury east.


	3. Chapter Two: Negligence

**Author's Note: One thing that has definitely improved over the years since writing the first Vent Thy Fury East is my sense of pacing. No longer will paragraphs talking about sunrises and how hot they can be drag on and on in an unintuitive manner, and no longer will I jump from one scene to the next without proper and appropriate feeling transitions. Also, I'm not going to throw clunky fight scenes at you every ten minutes. But don't worry, the core of what makes VTFE, VTFE is still there. It's just prettier now. I hope you all can appreciate these improvements and I hope to see you come next chapter!**

**Chapter Two: Negligence**

Even the static desert could do little to deny nature's gift of sweet, cool dew come spring time. The still lingering layer of fog from the night's rain chilled the air and wet Evelyn's lips as she enjoyed her morning run. Dawn was approaching and so too would the sleepy citizens of Bordertown by the time the sun pierced through the window slits. Because of this, Evelyn found the best time for exercise was before sunrise, while both her lumbering housemate Magnus and the rest of the town continued to sleep.

Even with all that had happened when dealing with the stress of her recovery, reacquaintances with old faces, and relearning of common facilities, Evelyn found it easy to enjoy some of the more simple aspects of life such as morning jogs and the cool air that accompanied them before being swallowed by the heat of the sun. Every morning she took the same path trailing through the market, then up the Guild congressional hill, then coiling down into the Hunter's plaza before ending at the main, West gate of Bordertown.

It was a fairly average morning, with the exception of the brief morning dew, before Evelyn would actively acknowledge her reasoning for traveling to the Hunter's plaza as she so regularly did. Magnus had warned her countless times never to go there alone, as this newer breed of "Monster Hunter" was but a rouse and alternative title for "Horny Young Men Wanting to Swing Sharp and Heavy Objects While Impressing Friends."

Still, she was drawn to the place. For whatever reason she felt a strong sense of connection while treading lightly through the desolate streets (save a few homeless Felynes and old women sweeping their porches) of the plaza. It was quiet, peaceful, and played host to a trove of secrets left to her by a man she had "never met" before. And she decided that today would be one of the very few days that she'd embark upon those secrets once again, just in case she had missed something since her last visit.

Dawn made its stealthy approach, and since she was not too keen on showing off her physique to the rest of the world while dressed in runner's attire, she would have to shorten her search today and only focus on the most important corners of the large armory left to her. The armory housed only the best, only the permanent, and only the most Guild trusted of Monster Hunters' weapons, armors, and miscellaneous items. It was a chore unto itself using the same key to unlock five different chamber doors before being able to step into the underground lockup and inspect what was yours.

"And what is _mine_?" Evelyn whispered to herself as she dodged spider webs and stepped into the semi-darkness of the Hunter Berek's long lost armory.

Chests bulging with wyvern scales, crab shells, and vibrant pelts stuck close to the walls, making way for the impressive collection of expertly stitched and lovingly crafted armors strung up onto racks that lined the center of the chamber. The light of Evelyn's Rathian ruby illuminated the wardrobe as she crept closer, inspecting the most fanciful robes and scale imbued gowns.

"Strange… Some of these are made for women," she noticed, pulling a pink, hard scaled sleeve out into the light. "And just my size too," she giggled. "It must have cost a fortune to forge all of this…"

She made her way over to the weapons, a section of the bunker she had scarcely inspected before, for Evelyn was not fond of weapons. Swords thicker than Ceanataur claws and taller than men hung from the walls, promising a swift death to any standing below them if their shackles were to suddenly burst to send them plummeting below. Hammers gathered dust in the corner, dual swords sat on shelves, and lances leaned against one another, unattended to and neglected on racks.

"Hmm… No ranged weapons," she murmured, running her fingers through dust. "No, wait. Here's one."

She approached a slender, sturdy bowgun. One that her mind had no recollection of, but her hands might. It was the Rapidcaster. Her weapon of choice in times past. She sat next to it, leaning the heavy piece of complex machinery onto her lap. Shinu's venom had eaten away at her cartilage and weakened her bones, but this much she could manage. Although actually lifting and operating the beast properly was most likely out of the question.

She worked the strings and unstuck the primer and safety mechanisms as she had been taught by Delilah on rare occasions. The satisfying "click" made her heart race for a brief moment. Her eyes opened wide with intrigue. If only for a moment, she felt something. Just then and there. _This_ was why she continued to visit this place from time to time. It was a vault of clues leading to fractured memories that no longer existed, leaving only the ghosts behind for her to prod and wonder.

The candlelight at the top of the stairs above flickered. She had forgotten to shut the chamber door behind her as someone else entered the vault. She froze, unsure of what to do, before meeting the half-grin of a familiar, rugged face.

"E–Early morning for you," she greeted the man politely, placing the gun up against the wall.

"Yeah. Heard a door slam. Woke me up."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was just going for a run is all."

"Yeah. Like usual. 'Cept you tend to slam the door whenever you plan on heading here. Curious habit." The man spoke quickly and assertively, making his was down the riveted stone and into the room. He kept his hands in his pockets and looked around inquisitively, marveling at a wondrous collection that rivaled his.

"Am I not supposed to be here, Magnus?" Evelyn asked, her voice echoing nervously. It was rare to see the Hunter up this early. It was even rarer to see him out in the streets in clothes so… pedestrian. As opposed to his usual getup of heavy, plated armor.

"If you were to ask _that woman_ at the shop, she'd probably tell you that. Me? Nah. I think you have every right to be here. More than anybody, actually. Coming here alone isn't such a good idea, but hey, it's your vault. Find anything interesting?"

"Ah, yes! This caught my eye," she told him, pointing to the Rapidcaster. "And of course, some of the fabrics."

"A weapon caught your eye? That's not very like you. Let me take a look at it." Suddenly, Magnus' eyes shared almost the same light as the girl's in front of him after snapping back the gun's bolt. "This one?" He asked to clarify, pointing to the Rapidcaster.

"Yes…"

"Well now, that is interesting…"

"Magnus?"

"Well, I mean, it's an interesting choice of weaponry!" He laughed forcibly. "I didn't take you for a gunner. Did you try picking it up?"

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to break it–"

"Nonsense, you're not gonna break that thing. Go on, give her a lift. Let's see how you look with it."

"I–If you insist," Evelyn agreed reluctantly, heaving the weapon up to her hip. It was unwieldy and beyond difficult for her to manage comfortably. But something about it made her smile, almost like child's first time riding atop an Aptonoth's back. A very transparent smile that even Magnus couldn't help but contagiously show. "Magnus? Are you alright? You look like you're in pain."

"No, I'm fine. I'm just fine. It looks good on you though," Magnus commented, crossing his arms while holding back a torrent of welled up emotion. Just seeing her like that brought back memories… "Real good."

Her arms shook from the weight of the bowgun as she gently set it by her feet, eyeing Magnus in the dimness of the bunker. He shifted his gaze. There wasn't a day that went by where she didn't believe for a moment that he didn't know more about her past than he let on. And she had reason to believe that Delilah was in on it too. The only remaining question was, _why?_

"Magnus," Evelyn began, almost choking on her words. "I know it's bold of me to assume, but… Do I have a history with this weapon?"

The man remained a statue. He was fed up with the charade the moment it was forged by Delilah in secret. And after two years the aggravation of the reality of it all only continued to snowball into something unbearable and burning within his heart. It was an entire circle of close and even distant friends made up of shopkeeps, Guild officials, and Hunters told what not to say at what time just for the sake of one, poor girl who wouldn't know the difference anyway. To him, it was a sin.

"That's right," Magnus assured her, not bothering to divulge any further information. "You do."

"And the man who left all of this to me… I had a history with him as well?"

"That's correct."

"And you knew him?"

"I did."

"And so did she?"

"She did."

"And what was his name?"

_Berek_ is what he wanted to say. _Berek_ is what he was prompted to say. It was the one and only word loaded and ready to burst forth from his voice. And yet when the time arrived he spoke something entirely different instead. Perhaps it was out of habit. Perhaps it was one, final restraint and defense mechanism. Either way–it was not the truth.

"I don't remember," he told her. "None of us were all that close. We thought it was kind of weird when he left all this to you too. But then again, he didn't have many friends. Me and Lilah got plenty of old weapons and withered dragonsuits. So I guess you were just the most logical choice. Maybe he had a thing for ya, I don't know…" Magnus lied, unable to keep a steady tone or even look the girl in the eyes.

"And that's the truth?"

"Yeah. Most of it. Let's head back. Sun's comin' up. Wouldn't want the 'new years' to find you outside wearing PJs like those," he teased, heading for the exit. "And don't worry, I won't tell Lilah you were here. You know how she gets."

"Ah, yeah… Thanks… And Magnus?"

"Hmm?" He turned to face her with his hand on the stair railing.

"Thank you. For the truth, I mean."

Magnus gripped the railing tighter, almost crippling its hinges in much of the same way that the girl's words crippled him. "Yeah. No problem," he forced the words like a poisonous fire. "Let's go."

The world was turned upside down for many after the fall of both Bordertown and Allsburg. And even with the two cities' reconstruction hitting its stride and the influx of "new year" Hunters filling the Guild halls and taverns like obnoxious Vespoids, things were still _different_. For some more than others, anyway.

Magnus' reputation as the town playboy and "man who left his party to die" was soon eclipsed by not only his engagement to the beautiful, ex-Huntress Delilah, but also his heroic deeds during the siege of Bordertown where he battled the ferocious (and exceedingly rare) species of wyvern, Espinas, just barely escaping with what would have surely been fatal wounds to any lesser man.

Still, as a veteran Monster Hunter, now ranked as nothing more than a number with the Guild's new Hunter Rank system at HR 86, Magnus often found himself working alone. A dangerous prospect to even the greatest of Hunters… Something that the once proud and noble Clodinus could attest to, still acting as both an idol and pseudo-mentor to Magnus even years after his death.

The Outposts, or "Outlands" as some called them, were still the Outposts, the deserts stayed deserts, and the previously agitated and ravenous wyverns of the _siege_ went back to their normal selves, putting further trust in Fatalis' dormancy. It was changes in the world of _man_ that showed more than any, mostly with the way the new Guild operated, seemingly split into multiple factions now and having a greater influence on the common peoples more than ever. Something considered by the highest ranking officials as a much needed "protection" while clearly acting as a masquerade for absolute control over the largest, wealthiest populations.

And with every new Guild tower built and every school established there was a new face that came with it. And the new face of Bordertown was one that liked to be seen a lot. She was the tall, beautiful, mature, strict, and hazardously cold Velaria Duchess. One of Bordertown's highest ranking members of the Guild core and top dean at the newly managed Augrim, where Evelyn currently attended. And among the many decadent titles bestowed upon her throughout her years working for the Guild, there was perhaps a lesser known one that only a select few were ever aware of. The honorable, even if wholly unofficial, title of "Bane of Magnus."

"Miss Marmota!" The woman shouted towards the two sole patrollers of the morning road on their way back to Delilah's shop. They both halted at the sharpness of her easily recognizable voice as it penetrated the gradually warming air.

"Y–Yes ma'am!" Evelyn shot back courteously, facing the woman and placing her fist at the center of her chest. The salute of a Guildsman. Magnus spat at the ground and scratched his head while awaiting further disruption from what he considered to be the worst thing that had ever happened to Bordertown since the Black Fatalis.

She puffed out her chest and swung her hips obnoxiously as she made her approach, practically oozing authority, nearly cracking the street beneath her pointed heels with each step. She wore a tight, purple suit and skirt to match, distributed to only the most worthy of Guild officials that she decorated with badges and exceptionality ribbons. Her glasses were thin and not very prominent, but added just the right amount of flare to her elegant and pristine look with a face as smooth and as white as Evelyn's. She wore her dark violet hair in a tightly woven bun and had a chest that dwarfed Evelyn's as well, even when suppressed by the tight fitting clothing. A feat that most Bordertown women took quite personally, adding to the general dislike, but completely obedient and fearful, attitudes displayed toward her.

She looked to Magnus, displeased. "Sup, baby," he jaunted, placing his hands behind his head in a carefree manner.

"Hold your tongue, worm. I have yet to speak with you. My business is with Miss Marmota. Evelyn!"

"Y–Yes!?"

"What relations have you with this unsightly… creature? I do hope you're keeping yourself healthy and wholesome outside of school during the holidays. You are one of our best and brightest after all."

"Oh, yes ma'am, Magnus and I are housemates! I've been living with him and his fiancé ever since I came to Bordertown. They're wonderful, kind people Ms. Duch–"

"Yes, yes, I already know your housing predicament," the woman interrupted her brazenly, acting as if something else in the distance had suddenly caught her attention.

"…Then why did you ask?" Magnus muttered.

"Magnusson… Have you no respect for authoritative figures and the protection they provide here for the insolent, walking trash such as yourself? Or has your barbaric brain suffered so much concussive trauma throughout your life as a, 'Hunter,' that you are simply too daft to comprehend the concept?"

"Last I checked it was us Hunters that stood up against the siege two years ago when Bordertown needed us most. Not the pencil pushers at the Guild. But I'm sure they were doing their best to send troops from the safety of their seaside condos up near Loc Lac and the Northern Sea. Or maybe they were assembling an army of mobile Dragonators–who knows?" He scoffed sarcastically, then paused for a moment, looking a bit disgusted. "And my mother calls me Magnusson… Please, your grace. Never again. Although, you two are probably close in age…"

"Enough!" Velaria erupted, her smooth white face turning pink. "I'll have you written up and reprimanded for such harassment!"

"I'll add it to the collection," Magnus said with a wave, already taking his leave. "Maybe even pin the papers on my shirt sleeve like a big bad Guildsman."

Both Evelyn and the flustered Duchess were left alone to greet the sun as it crept over the great walls that enclosed the city, making for an awkward conference. "What is that attire?" The woman asked hurriedly, changing the subject.

"They're… my running clothes, ma'am."

"Well change them. It's an eye sore. If you wish to become an honorary member of the Guild and all that it stands for in these dire times then you must look the part as well. If you need extra clothing or any other amenities, come to me. Do not hesitate to consult me on such matters, Miss Marmota. I have high expectations for you."

"Of course, dean. I'll go change right away," Evelyn returned the gesture with an unsure smile. It was strange behavior for the harshest living being in Bordertown to show such kindness. It made Evelyn wonder just exactly _what_ the woman expected of her…

The two parted ways as the rest of the city awoke and began their busy days. The coming weeks would prove to be exceedingly hectic with most schools having given their students an extended holiday to commemorate the victory achieved two years ago during the _Second Fall of Minegarde._

"Two whole years," Magnus sighed, flopping himself down on the floor of his tidied home. "It's been that long?"

"It has," Delilah assured him, bringing three cups of tea to the living room. "Where is Evelyn?"

"Dealing with the Devil."

"I'm here," Evelyn spoke softly, entering the home and placing her shoes at the door. "Ms. Duchess says she'd like to give me new clothes."

"Did she? That's certainly out of character."

"Not really," Magnus said while kicking off his boots and lying on his back. "That woman's easy to read. She got the hots for ya, Evelyn. I'd wager that much."

"Oh lord, Magnus, not this again."

"It's true Lilah. You'd see it for yourself if you ever saw the way she looks at her. Hell, what was she doin' outside our house this morning? Patrolling the _nothing_? She was probably waiting for her. I've seen hots. She's got the hots."

"You're an animal. We've got more important things to worry about right now," Delilah informed the two while distributing tea and sweet bread. "Lately I've been running out of stock. It's really beginning to test the patience of some of the regulars around the store."

"Stock? Whaddya need? I dump like all of my left over quest stuff on you; it should be a gold mine in there."

"Pelts, mostly. Bear pelts. Aoashira and Rangu if you'd please."

"Ahhhh, ughhhh…" Magnus groaned, turning over. "It's always _business_ with you!"

"Yeah, I know, it's like I run a shop or something."

"Ugh, what happened to the _fun_ Delilah that used to fly on dragons' backs and kill them with one punch to the head?"

"I never used to do that," she laughed, sipping at her tea. "And my fists are solely reserved for you now, love."

"Heh, we need a vacation…"

Distant voices of playful children came in through the open window. There was a generally content, but heavy stench of gloom that filled the air. Evelyn broke her silence, seizing her opportunity to make herself useful after remembering the freedom she had recently been allowed over the next two weeks.

"I could man the shop for you!" She spouted, standing to her feet. "I mean, I have holidays for the next two weeks, so… If you two wanted to go and take some time off then I could do that for you."

"Oh, Evelyn, we couldn't ask that of you," Delilah said.

"No, really! I'd love to. I have nothing better to do anyway," she laughed, feeling a little ashamed. "You two deserve some relaxation."

The couple looked to each other, silently mulling over the newly presented option. "It's spring," Magnus suggested. "We could always visit the mountain hot springs."

Delilah seemed utterly delighted by the idea, but still seemed reluctant. She had always acted as on elder sister, even motherly at times, when concerning Evelyn. The last thing she wanted to do was place such a burden on her when she needed to be focusing on studies more than anything else.

"I don't know, sweetie… Are you sure you don't have any plans?"

Magnus accidentally sputtered a bit with a chuckle, immediately apologizing thereafter. It wasn't often that Evelyn left the house for anything other than school related business. "Of course. It's fine," she reassured her.

"What about that Daren boy? Hasn't he been asking about you lately? Are you sure you don't have anything set up with him that you might be forgetting about?"

The room grew a tad quieter, as if her very answer to the inquiry might break the family's spirit depending on the outcome. "No," Evelyn shook her head with a light smile. She busied herself by grabbing the half empty teacups while heading for the kitchen. "I'll go get everything set up right now!" She exclaimed, opening the section of the house that connected seamlessly with the shop next door. "Really, you two just relax and discuss where you're going to go! I'll take care of everything!"

The moment the door shut Magnus sat up, crossing his arms in disapproval. "What are you doing, mentioning that kid like that?"

"It's been two years now, Magnus…" Delilah sighed, sitting down next to him. "She deserves to see what the world has to offer instead of dwelling on the past… A past that she'd probably be better off never knowing."

"A part of me wants to agree with you. But the other part tells me that she already had everything that the world had to offer at one point. And maybe it's our job to give that back to her."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Heh, I don't know… Just being poetic I guess. You're right. She needs to get out there and embrace her new life for what it is," Magnus sighed as well, resting his tired head on Delilah's shoulder. "But if you think I'm gonna let this 'Daren' kid take her on some date to the plaza, you've got another thing coming. I want to meet him."

"Oh, you're getting ahead of yourself. I'm sure he's a nice boy. That's what Evelyn tells me anyway."

"Wha–how much do you two talk about this little punk!? I'll strangle the life out of him if I don't like what I see."

"Please. If you're trying to impress me do it by not slaughtering anything on our way to the mountains. I can't remember the last time I saw you timid. Or at least not so high strung as you are these days."

"Same to you. I guess we kinda bit off more than we could chew with this whole Augrim stuff. I still think we should break into _you-know-who's_ gold and raid it for all it's worth. But then again, I don't even like going near it… That place I mean. The armory."

"You went there today?" Delilah asked, going on a hunch.

"Yeah…"

"Yeah? And…?"

Magnus looked to the ceiling and took another deep breath. Even with the excitement of finally being able to take leave and have some time to himself, _not_ while stalking scaled beasts and winged creatures in the desert… It wouldn't be easy to leave Evelyn without worry.

"I almost told her," he admitted. "I almost told her everything today in that vault. In fact, I _meant_ to. But for some reason I just couldn't. I don't know what it was. But something stopped me dead in my tracks. Ha, I'm a coward of a man. No different from when I left those men to die at the hands of that mountain of shit, Lao Shan Lung."

"Don't say that… You know it's not true…"

"Maybe… I just miss her is all, Delilah. I really do. I miss her firing off rounds next to me on hunts. I miss her bombastic personality. I miss how she would never shut up when now you can hardly get her to talk. I miss the cute little lover's spats she and him would get into…" His voice shook as the woman next to him held him close. "And I miss that bastard… and I hate him for leaving us… For leaving her when she needed him most."

"Now, now," Delilah cooed the Hunter, stroking his chest. "Don't get yourself all worked up. Like Evy said, we've got some preparations to make. If we're going to leave, tomorrow would be the best time. There's supposed to be a bad sandstorm tonight."

Most of what she said fell upon deaf ears. It was true, that Magnus had taken the brunt of the impact in regards to Berek's abandonment. He didn't like to talk about him, but couldn't help himself. He didn't like to hear Delilah call Evelyn "Evy," for it was what Berek used to call her. And he didn't like living in a world not knowing what had happened. He didn't like living in a world of uncertainty.

And as the world went about its business as it was prone to do, just like before the Legendary Black Dragon made its first strike, there was something stirring in the land. A bitter evil and slowly layered resentment for humankind… Before, it was nature that felt the first waves of chaos resonating from the newly awakened Fatalis. But now, it was _man_ that would feel the first, budding stings of what was to come… Something potentially more chaotic than Shinu's elder pet.

**Author's Note: Where's Berek!?**


	4. Chapter Three: Convergence

**Author's Note 10/10/12: Without spoiling much for those about to read ahead, I hope you're all excited as I am for what comes next! Anyway, in case you miss the Alsatia reference in the third paragraph, Alsatia was a place in the old country of Great Britain where thieves and never-do-wells would congregate due to a lack of authoritative presence. Kinda like Mos Eisley in Star Wars. By the way, look up the song Alsatia by Galneryus. It's pretty amazing. Join me next time for chapter 4!**

**Chapter Three: Convergence**

Throughout the crags of the sand and sunbathed motherland of the desert canyons southwest of Bordertown and even further moreso from Allsburg crept the most insidious of creatures. Creatures with ambition akin only to devils… With influence to rival the most sick and twisted individuals bordering on fluctuating levels of delirium… And with intent on living out these malicious ambitions and influences to the fullest without regard to any who may draw breath near them in a lifetime.

What kind of sinister creatures could these be, one might wonder? What kind of villainous scum could lurk in and around the canyon walls that flood into the marshy forests and swamps? What evil lingers in these places…? Dragon? Wyvern? Something yet unknown to man? Unfortunately for man, not a single of these answers can suffice. And yet even _more _misfortune: The creature is man himself.

Welcome to the Outposts. The borderlands. The hive of stagnant silt and congress of boiling scorn. An outlet for all evildoers throughout the land. Minegarde's "Alsatia." It was an area known for its inhabitants and the laws that seldom governed them. It was also a place where Monster Hunters rarely showed their faces…

In older times this may have rung false. Guild presence was thin back then, but it was still there and thus Hunters were drawn to it. Besides, many rare creatures, insects, and ores were just waiting to be found around the many borders of Outposts 1 through 62. But as time passed and Guild influence moved on from this end of the foggy world to the sun soaked horizons of the East, the border regions ranging from the murkiest swamp to the blackest ocean became known as a place of evil… And a place that no sane man would ever venture without great reason.

And still tiptoeing within those laws of sanity, just barely, we find a man… A man stripped of "reason" and questionably sane. A man who would still call himself a Hunter. A man who would shout it at the tops of his lungs if he were so inclined… A man clad in the scales of the formidable Rathalos with a gargantuan sword at his back of the same make. This would be Outpost 12's latest resident. And he was one that would be eyed very closely during his stay there. Eyed by some, closer than others.

As the mysterious, young, and relatively fresh face of the Outpost made his way into a run down and damp local tavern, he felt those prying eyes closing in. They had been following him for quite a while now. And he knew that the moment he stopped for a rest they would surely make their strike. In fact, he counted on it.

"Hands on the counter now, boy'o. Right where I can see 'em," a bald, gamey imp of a man commanded the hunter while gently pointing a small knife at the seam of his armor, ready to disable a kidney. "I'd not tried anythin' funny if I were you. This here dagger's coated in a rich venom. We've been watching you for days. We know where ya eat. Where ya sleep. We even see ya talkin' to yerself, right boys?" The man laughed, egging on the two bandits on either side of him.

"Baggi saliva," the Hunter growled with a light chuckle, taking a sip of the wine he had ordered just before the men had arrived. "I can smell it. You trying to kill a man, or put him to sleep with that butter knife?"

The flustered bandit eyed the dagger for a moment then pressed it harder into the Hunter's side. "Why you–think yer clever, do ye!?"

"Also the sonics you bought off that very same merchant are faulty. Hastily made. It wouldn't surprise me if they went off at any moment in your pockets. If I were you, I'd probably make a few new contacts and get my money back from him. Assuming he hasn't skipped town already." Collective silence and deafening disbelief as all eyes in the tavern began to focus on him. "And you thought you were tracking _me_?"

"Heh, heh, heh… Awright then, chump. Awright. That's all very good. Very clever. But lookie who's got a dagger in yer back, eh? What say you 'bout that business?"

"I'm gonna break what few teeth you have left."

"Wha–"

The Hunter soared. Air from the impact of the back of his fist against the bandit's face could be felt by everyone within spitting distance. The knife fell along with the thief, his back against the mud and straw, as the Hunter intercepted the next one's punch by flipping him back-first onto a soon to be broken tabletop. The two squirmed and pleaded indiscernibly while clutching at the Hunter's crimson boots in pain. The smell of blood hit the moist air lightly. The third man shook, pulling back the string of his bowgun and aiming it at the Hunter's chest.

"D–Don't move!" He shouted, voice wavering. "You'll not best me so easily, Guild dog!"

Before the last bandit could think to pull the trigger, the barrel of his gun was bent with a swift kick and his consciousness was fading after a lightning quick open palm strike to the gut. He too fell against the dirtied floor of the tavern, groaning and holding his stomach while the Hunter disassembled the rest of their weapons and gave their pieces to the bartender to hide behind the counter.

"Weapons are meant for protecting lives. Not ending them," the Hunter said to the three men as they managed to crawl their way out. "Good lord, is everyone here as stupid as these three?" He whispered, reclaiming his seat at the counter.

"J–Just about," the middle aged man responded, happily refilling the Hunter's drink free of charge. "That was sure a masterful display of combat. What's your name, Hunter? We don't get too many folk like you around the Outlands."

"Berek," he said with a small cough, savoring the rich wine. "Just Berek."

Everyone heard it. And now, everyone knew it. The name of the man who had bested the oppressive forces of the Outpost without breaking a sweat. Because while such a wretched hive was known for that which it harbored most, there were also some denizens that weren't making their home there on their own accord. Some being born into a poor, debt ridden families with no other choice. So seeing such a display as this… to say the least, heightened a few spirits.

"Making a mess already?" A voice came from the tavern entrance. "You just got here, my boy."

Berek turned and faced the inquisitor, already aware of what he'd find. "I suppose so," he said with a light smile, placing some zenny on the counter and making his way to the exit. "I'm glad you made an effort to find me. It greatly saved me the trouble of seeking you out."

"Oh? And what would a gallant Hunter want with an old man like me?"

Berek motioned for the two of them to walk outside together. The man had no qualms. It had been nearly a half year since the two had last seen each other. This man acted as a pseudo-friend to the disconnected and lone soldier of darkness, Berek… the one who made a pact with the Crimson Fatalis. And Berek allowed it to be this way because he knew no harm would come of it… Not like it would if he sought out his "true" friends from long ago.

"I received a gift not too long ago," the man said, leading Berek to his shabby home under the guise of mist and moonlight. "It was rather unexpected. I wasn't quite sure what to think after finding it placed near the fire pit of my old home, at the Outpost where we first met. But in the end I decided to bring it with me after moving here. After all, it was mine to begin with… Still…"

"It was stained by the blood of many innocent lives," Berek told him. "The Scythe of Menace. But it was your son's. And despite what feelings you may hold towards him in this day and age, he was still your son. And that makes you the best candidate to bear his sins after death."

"Yes," the man agreed, opening the door to his home. "I suppose you're right. Please, come in."

Berek dismounted the greatsword Siegmund from his back and leaned it against the wall, embracing the weightlessness as he sat next to the already roaring fire. It had been a long time since he had removed the blade and he had the shoulder sores to prove it. It seemed that he was always on the move, always traveling these days… as if he were trying to escape his own shadow.

"Tea?" The old man asked, holding a boiling kettle in front of Berek's face.

"I've never accepted your tea before, old man."

"I figure one of these days I'll coax you," the man smiled as he poured himself a cup, adding a tinge of whiskey. "Now. What business do you have with me today?"

Berek reached for the Siegmund, a monstrous, powerful weapon imbued with the frightening power of a pure and radiant Rathalos ruby. He ran his fingers among its many scars and deep nicks, pruning it by the firelight. "It seems I am in need of your handiwork, blacksmith."

"Ah," the bald and tired old man sighed, applying his spectacles to take a closer look. "A magnificent weapon. It's seen better days, but the bone may be reworked and the hilt straps tightened. Although, it'd likely be better if you found yourself a newer weapon after all these years. Don't you agree, Hunter?"

"This one suits me."

"You mean it reminds you of the past?"

"Don't," Berek warned him, feeling agitated by the simplest of jeers. "Don't start this again, smith. This one suits me. That's all. Can you fix it?"

"Yes, of course. But I can't promise you it'll be of great use much longer. The Golem Blades series of greatswords are meant to be unbreakable, you know? Known for their raw power and indelible structure over grace. Though you always manage to bring this poor soul to me as if it were eroded to its last leg. What do you do out there, split mountains?"

"Heh, something like that."

"You'd be better off bringing it to someone more suited to the task. Not an old hermit such as myself. Why not visit one of the great cities and see if perhaps a new branch of evolution has been opened up for the sword after all this time? Those fools in the desert always have new, Guild certified inventions to be exploited before the popularity rises. You're always on the move. Perhaps you should rest there for a while."

Berek held his tongue, entranced by the flames between him and the man who had already begun work on his blade. The man knew the reason why Berek avoided the cities. And he knew the reason why his advice would not even be considered. The room grew darker as a transcendent force began to watch over the both of them from afar. Berek felt it. He knew it well…

"This blade has never seen the blood of a man. Not like that one," the blacksmith noted, scraping the bone with his tools while pointing to the scythe leaned against the wall behind him. "And yet you reek of it. I wonder… Do you kill men with your bare hands to spare the blade?"

"I have yet to kill a man, smith. I can assure you that. I don't see that ever happening."

"And yet… you long for it?"

"Why do you test my patience this day, old man? Is it because I left the scythe at your home six months ago? Did it burn you that deeply? Or have you simply lost your senses over the years?"

"I'm… I'm sorry," the man apologized, continuing his work. "It's just that I see it in your eyes… The same look that _he_ had all those years ago. Just after my wife had been taken by the flames…"

"I'm not like him. I am not your Shinu."

"Do you hate him still?"

"Do you?"

"A man could never hate his son… Not even after the crimes that mine has committed. Wherever he is now I pray that he's content and at peace with what he has done in the afterlife. It was not his fault for the way that the world treated him as a child… But it was his responsibility to deal with the anger and spite. Instead of making the same mistake that I almost made before him…"

"The cult," Berek said. "You attempted to summon the Fatalis as well?"

"Yes… Long before my son was born into this world. I was young and I was stupid. I craved power. And in an attempt to rise up amongst my peers, I sought out that creature high atop the ancient tower in the West. And to no avail. I never found it, ignoring the location of both the Crimson Calamity and the Legendary Black Dragon. For me, it was the White Ancestor or none at all. And to this day I am grateful that I never found him. Or else I fear that I may have strayed down a much darker… much more grotesque path. One such as yours."

"I keep my path well lit. You of all people should know that by now. You're the only constant figure I've kept in contact with over these past two years. For better or for worse. I'll never descend into the darkness that dissolved Shinu…"

"The boy was already dark," the man corrected him, placing the hefty blade into a mechanical compress. "But you've already heard that story and I've never been fond of retelling it. I still remember how you were back then when you came to me searching for answers. Full of fire and determination. And even then I could tell… that it was all for the girl."

"Enough."

"Right, right. Press down on this," the man beckoned Berek to the compress' handle. "I'm afraid I've grown weaker than since we last met. You can take care of this part. How is she, by the way?"

"Who?" Berek avoided the question while operating the machine.

"The girl…"

"She's alive. That's enough to satisfy me."

"If you continue to lie to yourself that hate will grow, Hunter. And with the flames at your back… it will transform into something much, much worse."

"I already told you," Berek grunted, pulling out his newly restored sword. "My path is well lit. The beast has no influence over me. We hardly interact with one another."

The man poured yet another cup of tea and added more whiskey. He could hear the lies beneath every word the boy spoke. It was as if he had become so accustomed to the falsities he had woven around himself that he was actually beginning to believe in them. The dragon's presence was strong… The demon was nearby. The entirety of the village could feel it. They only knew not what it was.

"What about what she desires?" The man spoke up finally, ignoring the Hunter's threats. After all, he was a disturbed and tired old man. What more could ail him this late in his life? Berek bit his lip, fastening the blade back into its holster upon his back. He had grown considerably large over the years, but the blade still remained colossal in appearance.

"She is no longer the woman I once loved… And yet there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of her…" Berek admitted. He began to feel something claw at his consciousness. "But every thought that comes into my mind is defiled by _it_."

"Shinu was the same way. That is how he forgot to love."

"Yet still… It's out of my power. There is nothing I can do to stop it. Every day is a struggle… Every day the beast attempts to infiltrate my mind… Cloud my sense of morality… Make me do things I don't want to do… Just earlier I had to restrain myself from tearing those men in half and feeding him their pieces," he said, reaching for his aching head. "That is why I must remain out here. That's why I have to keep moving."

"And that's why you're still able to stand there and have this conversation with me," the man smiled tenderly. "Because you're double the man that Shinu ever was. What you have tethered to you now is an evil far more intrusive and ferocious than the one that my son unleashed into the world years ago. And if I would be so bold, I'd say you are the only man that could tame it in this way."

"Tame it?" Berek snarled, struggling to keep his sense as the beast drew closer. "You have no idea… It is its own master. The only reason why he hasn't already reduced this place to ash is because he enjoys his freedom. And he knows that if he gives in to the carnage that governs his soul… that I will forfeit my life and send him back to his slumber."

Berek's words ate away at the man as he sat next to the fire, feeling chilled and faint as he spoke. It was as if he was channeling the devil himself… Whatever the Hunter was managing to keep at bay, it was something that would cripple a lesser man. And the blacksmith knew this.

"I offer you my services and my good tidings, for that is all I can do to aid you in your quest, good Hunter. Although your sin was foolish, I feel that in your situation I would have likely done the same… If it were my wife, I mean. I would have made a pact with any damned beast to bring her back. And one more thing…" The man stated, looking away as Berek turned to face him. "I offer my sincerest apology."

"For?"

"It was Shinu's stroke that killed your father. It was his doing that ended the lives of thousands of people… It was he who did this to you and the one you suffer for. And it was me who brought him into this world. And for that, I sincerely apologize."

"Ha, ha, you're too sentimental, old man. Don't waste your apologies on me. Just stay alive for the next time I bring this back to you," Berek said, knocking on the flat side of his blade. "Lest I'm forced to venture into someplace more populated and consult a _real_ smithy."

"You should," the man encouraged him. "You should pay her a visit I mean…"

Berek waved him off, stepping out into the heavily misted darkness. The air was rank and stunk of poor irrigation. Here the people were grief stricken and the land reflected that. But the population was anything but dense and the atmosphere was something that Berek thrived upon. To the untrained eye, he looked to be a Hunter of exceptional ability, meaning his coin purse was likely weighty. And this was something that Berek counted on.

It brought forth more incidents like the one at the tavern only moments ago. And it helped him to serve as an outlet for the rage that dwelled inside of him. The boy was always quick tempered. Even at this moment he could recall the time when he nearly beat Magnus' brother, Argus, into a pulp after insulting his long since deceased father. And then he was but a fledgling Hunter. Still, the rage and power that culminated inside of him now… It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was something that if he didn't keep under control, would get out of hand and put entire communities at risk.

Shortly after making his way out of the Outpost limits, he assembled his thoughts on higher ground. He liked to up high where the wind was less foul and he could look down on those below. He could look down on a world that now seemed so small and vague after seeing through the eyes of an ancient.

The foulness of the air had left, but was soon replaced by another smell. It was slight. Perhaps most wouldn't even notice it. The smell of wildflowers. Even Berek's heightened senses had only just now been able to recognize it. But he knew of what caused the smell and how long it had been chasing him for some time now… It was a smell that he had run into more than enough times to be able to recall.

"You," he growled at the cliff top, staring off into the marsh below without bothering to face his stalker. "How long are you going to follow me before making your move? I thought you bunch prided yourselves on the swiftness of your duties."

"Keh, keh!" The voice cackled, almost innocently. There sat a fit and slender girl perched on the rocks above Berek's head. She was robed in tight cloths of black and laid herself out provocatively after being found out by her quarry. "Oh, Mr. Crimson, you're no fun. You always skip the foreplay."

"Young girls shouldn't talk like that. Your smell gave you away. Like flowers…"

"'Tis the stink of passion. A passion I hold for you. Besides," she squeaked, shuffling into yet another suggestive pose. "I'm no killer. You know that, Mr. Crimson. I am but a ranger. Not an assassin like my brothers and sisters. I would never do any harm to you." Her voice remained muffled by the cloth wrapped around her face to ensure that her pale skin would not expose her while under the blanket of night. This was her hunting ground. The night was her cradle.

"You've followed me since before those bandits began tailing me two days ago. Why the dedication? I thought I was marked off of Affliction's list after the fiasco at Black Lake."

"But you are, darling! I only wished to pay you a visit. Oh! Pay a visit… Pay a visit… Isn't that what the old man said? For you to 'pay her a visit'? To whom, I wonder? A girl? We've been together for almost two years now… I can't believe you've managed to hide her from me after all this time."

"Shut your mouth before I shut it for your No. 88," he spit.

"Ah! You remembered my name! My number! I am overjoyed! But my lord… Whatever will I do about this mystery mistress you have implanted at some corner of Minegarde…? I simply can't bear the thought of sharing you with someone else… However can I win you over?" She asked, lowering herself stealthily behind her prey. She put her arms around his waist. Her breath caressed the bareness of his neck. "Perhaps there is something I can do for you that she can't?"

He attempted to push her away, only to feel the tip of a stray cloth end with his hand as she gracefully and silently slunk back into the cover of darkness. "What is this about, No. 88? Answer me. Affliction doesn't send the best of their scouts to seduce bounty targets. What is it that you came here to tell me?"

"_Eighty-Eight is my name,_

_A knife in the dark to end the game,_

_The Devil's blood flows through my veins,_

_To ensure you'll never see the light again…_

_Eighty-Eight is my name."_

"Cutthroats, the lot of you. You take pride in killing humans. It's disgusting."

"Keh, keh! I have placed my mark on you, swordsman," she squealed in pleasure while tasting the tip of a silver knife. Berek felt for his waist. He was bleeding, but just barely. She had penetrated his defenses… "Delicious. Your blood is so pure…"

"No. 88!"

"Know that Affliction has no list. Our contracts are bound in blood and coin. And it seems that although you were placed far from our agent's clutches, someone has paid thrice the last amount to see you dead. Be warned, swordsman. My brothers and sisters will come for you… No. 47 has already begun chanting your name in his sleep… He is obsessed with ending your life. Perhaps that is why I visited you today. To give you fair warning… Because my kin are not those to be taken lightly. I'll see you again on the second night of the full moon. Until then, try to do well on your own, Mr. Crimson. I'd hate to see you go running off to your little harlot without me, wherever you may be hiding her!"

Berek grit his teeth and grinded the heel of his greaves into the dirt, feeling powerless in the wake of the greatest assassination force in all of Minegarde: Affliction. A group unknown to many, whose members are stripped of their past names and past lives and associated only with a number thereafter. The numbers serve as ranks to justify the best assassin's from the rest. No. 88 was already a formidable opponent, being able to sneak a drop of his blood without him knowing… If Berek was to be hunted by a number as low as 47… He would surely have to use severe caution.

There was a glow in the distance that caught his eye as he tended to the slight wound on his side. It was a faint glow, but it was easy enough to see. It resembled magma flows. Like a hellish web of flames. The glow wavered between a hot red to a searing white, dancing alongside Berek's heartbeat.

"Don't," he said, buckling his tasset while staring off into the distance, confronting the glow. He was no longer afraid of it… "Don't kill her. We may need her in the future. She isn't a bad girl… She's just young and confused."

The glow faded and sought refuge amongst the trees, heeding Berek's words. The Crimson Fatalis craved death and destruction. It was simply in its nature. If it weren't for the Hunter's word, the creature would have surely killed the young assassin without hesitation. Although even now it was hard to tell if the demon would comply.

"Evelyn…" He sighed into the wind, reaching for his heart, perhaps relying on the gales to take his words to her, halfway across the land. "What would you have to say about the kind of life that I lead… now that you're gone…?

**Author's Note: And we have our main character back! So, let's go over the new characters thus far: Velaria Duchess, the Guild's newest general and bodacious vixen, Bane of Magnus, and No. 88 (Number Eighty-Eight), the young and promiscuous assassin who has an unnatural obsession with Berek, who she calls "Mr. Crimson" due to his red armor. Wonder if she'd still call him that if she found out what he was hiding… Leave a review and let me know what you think of the story so far!**


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